Letters Home
by Bar-Ohki
Summary: AU Sgt. Y. Hiruma finds himself writing the girl he loves to hate letters. This is a fine arrangement until his nosy, gossiping, and bored subordinates decide to get in on it.... HiruMamo
1. First Correspondence

Author's Note: Originally written on LJ for the HiruMamo community there during what was a very hellish finals week. This is the revised version that has a complementary story that goes along with it (Letters to the Field). Both are stand alones, though you will be more amused if you read both.

Summary: AU Sgt. Y. Hiruma finds himself writing the girl he loves to hate letters. This is a fine arrangement until his nosy, gossiping, and bored subordinates decide to get in on it....

Disclaimer: I own nothing, don't sue me.

Rating: T for most chapters (because of the frequent use of 'fuck') almost M for others (these will be remarked upon).

Warnings: This is wartime, so war related shit happens (there will be a very hard scenes involving characters dying and being shot).

Letters Home

By: Bar-Ohki

First Correspondence

"So you and the Sergeant are from the same town?" Manabu Yukimitsu, one of the latest draftees, asked Sena Kobayakawa, another kid that had just come in with the draftees. Sena had actually been in the military a little longer than some of the draftees, but he was still mostly a green recruit despite the added experience.

"Yeah." Sena nodded, not making any eye contact. Sena was shy and the only time he'd look anyone in the eye was when he was saluting or standing at attention.

"Wow, what a small world!" Manabu was sincerely amazed by the thought. "What's he like?"

"S-scary." Sena answered. Youichi Hiruma, the Sergeant, had always been someone that scared Sena a lot growing up. Though, unlike everyone else in town, Hiruma had never asked Sena to run him any errands and never actively bullied him (Hiruma just intimidated the hell out of Sena with personality alone).

"And what the hell are do you fuckers think you are talking about?" Hiruma demanded as he stepped out from behind one of the tents of their encampment. Hiruma hadn't been terribly happy back home, so his father had signed him up when they were looking for volunteers to fight. Hiruma since then actually applied himself to the war effort and had been promoted to Sergeant.

To Sena the man hadn't changed a lot, still pointy-eared, fanged, and the most pissy thing you'd had ever seen. Sena simply stood at attention with shakey legs and saluted as was proper. Manabu also snapped to attention and saluted.

"Nothing sir!" Manabu answered. He might have been weak physically, but Manabu was very smart and good with his hands.

"N-nothing sir." Sena managed to answer in a meek voice.

"You need to get over yourself, fucking shrimp." Hiruma told Sena with a pointed look.

"I'll work on it, sir." Sena assured Hiruma.

"No more fucking gossiping." Hiruma told them both flatly. "Go back to your fucking posts or I'll have your fucking hide for breakfast, am I clear?"

"Sir! Yes sir!" With two more salutes, the two Privates hurried on to their next destination.

"Already terrifying the greenhorns?" An amused voice asked from Hiruma's left.

"I didn't ask your fucking opinion, Corporal." Hiruma told Gen Takekura, one of his seconds-in-command, acidly.

"You know, Private Kobayakawa told me that his big sister has been claiming to be your girlfriend…." Gen remarked causally.

"Fucking shrimp!" Hiruma hissed, glaring off in the direction of the poor, unsuspecting Private. "And what of it?"

"You should write her." Gen told Hiruma simply. "I'm sure she asked you to."

"That isn't any of your fucking business!" Hiruma hissed, glaring at Gen. "And you are not allowed to fucking gossip in my fucking camp!"

"I'm not gossiping, I'm just giving you some advice because I'm your advisor." Gen had a bemused smile on his face.

"Tch!" Hiruma clicked his tongue. "Go show the fucking recruits around."

"Yes sir." Gen saluted then walked away casually while Hiruma stormed off to his own tent.

The Sergeant sat down and grabbed a sheet of paper and a pen. Before any words to write came to him, he recalled the so called 'promise' he had made Mamori Anezaki the last time he was home on leave.

_"Hiruma!" Mamori snapped as she slammed her fist down on the counter beside his cup of coffee. "Quit ignoring me!"_

_Hiruma looked up from the newspaper very lazily, knowing full well that it would just piss her off even more. "Nmm?"_

_"Look at me!" Mamori demanded as she reached out and grabbed his chin, forcing him to direct his eyes at hers. Hiruma only frowned, growled once warningly, then gripped her wrist firmly. He knew he could easily overpower her and remove her hand, but he also knew that he could just as easily break her wrist, which would only cause him more issues later._

_"As of right now I am your girlfriend and you are going to write me a letter once a month when you get back to the field, am I clear?" Mamori met his sharp green eyes with her large blue ones. _

_Hiruma pulled her arm away as gently as he dared. "Tch."_

"Fucking woman…!" Hiruma swore under his breath, clearly pissed about that development. If it wasn't for the fact Mamori made such wonderful coffee he wouldn't have had anything to do with her. She was whiney, -mothering- smothering sort of woman who was rather spoiled in the sense she always got her way. So despite all that, Hiruma decided he would write her a letter in jest.

_My So-Called 'Fucking Woman'-_

_As par your fucking, fucking, fucking request I am actually writing you a god forsaken letter from this hell-hole they call a 'trench'. Fucking trench. Fucking war. _

_Happy? You better damn well be._

_-Sgt. Y. Hiruma_

_'That'll shut her up good.'_ Hiruma smirked mockingly and shoved the letter in an envelope and stamped it. _'And it will shut that fucking old man too.'_ So Hiruma sent the letter and washed his hands of the ordeal. No one had said anything about it until one day about 13 days after the letter was sent, Sena approached the Sergeant (fearfully, might I add).

"Ser-sergeant Hiruma, sir!" Sena saluted while he fumbled over his words. "I have m-mail for you, sir!"

The only mail Hiruma ever received was usually from commanders giving him maps and whatnot. With a small roll of the eyes, Hiruma held out his hand expectantly, waiting for the large manila envelope to be placed in it. Instead, much to his surprise, there was a small, white envelope with carefully crafted cursive on the outside proclaiming the letter to be his for all the world to see.

With a puzzled frown, Hiruma opened the letter immediately and started reading.

_Youichi-_

_Mother said that you wouldn't write me, she told me you were such a horrible, unhonorable man that couldn't keep a promise. You probably can't imagine the look on her face when she found a letter from you in the mail. Father told me it was rather priceless._

_I knew that I could count on you to prove her wrong!_

_The fact you actually sent me a letter seems to be the only thing that anyone's gossiping about these days. No one wants to talk about the war, or how people might be doing out there. But we always have the radio running, even during the night, to see if there's been any news. _

_This war has really sucked the life out of this town. Everyone's so quiet and somber. Just goes to show what happens when you take all the young men away. _

_They started rationing food. It's really rather confusing what they choose to be rationing and not. Gasoline and meat I understand, but I don't really get why they'd ration coffee…._

_Would you mind telling me how things are going out there? The radio is usually full of politicians telling us about why we are fighting and occasionally there will be some announcement, like the rationing…._

_I hope you are well and safe out there._

_Lots of love,_

_Mamori A._

"What the hell?" Hiruma muttered, dazed by the fact Mamori actually bothered to send him a reply. It sounded just as chatty as she was whenever he had been in her coffee shop (one of the many things that pissed him off about her).

"Sir?" Sena asked, hoping to be dismissed.

"Don't tell anyone about this." Hiruma ordered as he tucked the letter away into his uniform.

"Yes sir."

_=_=_=_=_

What'd you think?


	2. Second Correspondence

Author's Note: Not really a lot to say other than this here's the update.

Letters Home

By: Bar-Ohki

Second Correspondence

_Fucking Woman-_

_You are using me to prove to your fucking old lady that I'm capable of being honorable. As much as that fucking amuses me, it pisses me off a lot more._

_The only reason I wrote you a fucking letter is because I had nothing to fucking do besides try and not get my ass shot off. _

_You can't handle what's really fucking happening out here anyways. You're too fucking sheltered and I do not have the fucking patience to deal with your fucking old lady telling me how I shouldn't have done fucking this or fucking that. _

_I'm going to stop fucking writing if there's no point in it._

_-Sgt. Y. Hiruma_

Hiruma had read over Mamori's letter about eight times before he decided to compose a reply that evening. Now that the reply was written, he felt better. For once he could give her a fucking piece of his mind without worrying about her mother bursting into the room to smack him around. That and her letter _did_ piss him off. Without any further prompting, Hiruma addressed and sealed the letter away for mailing.

"Fucking shrimp!" Hiruma bellowed out into the encampment. Sena and his fast legs did not disappoint.

"Re-reporting, sir!" Sena saluted, still quivering a bit in his boots. His fear caused him to run away which is why he was good messenger, he managed to always run away from the enemy.

"These are going in the fucking out mail. Lose them and I'll be the one killing you." Hiruma told him with a glare.

"Yes sir!" Sena quipped in fear. He had stopped saying 'hiii' in boot camp and just said 'yes sir' whenever he was afraid.

"And remember your orders from this morning." Hiruma told Sena cryptically as he walked back into his tent.

Later that night Sena would discover the letter addressed to Mamori.

When Mamori's reply arrived, Sena simply slipped it into his uniform pocket (like he did with all of his mail) and hid it away until evening. He then approached Hiruma's tent and announced himself.

"Private Kobayakawa, reporting sir!" Sena called from outside the tent. A very annoyed Hiruma came out of the flap. Sena held out a manila envelope that he had tucked Mamori's letter into while no one was watching in the mail room. Sena loosely tied the envelope in a hope that it wouldn't be wasted. Hiruma simply nodded once and releaved Sena of his burden.

"Fucking dis-!!" Hiruma was casually sending Sena as he opened up the envelope only to find the white envelope inside.

"Sir?" Sena asked.

"Stay on hand." Hiruma ordered and retreated into his tent to deal with the letter. Once inside Hiruma opened up the letter and started reading.

_Youichi-_

_You shouldn't say things like that! I am not so fragile I will break and I am highly capable of dealing with my mother! Besides it not like she has the means to write you herself and she certainly does not have the means to harass you in person! You need to loosen up and be less paranoid!_

_On the radio the other day I heard about this Company 021. Apparently they managed to cause some form of major break through by sneaking behind enemy lines. They had been outnumbered and out gunned! It must have been amazing!_

_I bet that company is full of brave and valiant soldiers! Have you met them? And if you have, what are they like!?_

_And how are you doing, physically?_

_Lots of love,_

_Mamori A._

"Y-yes sir!" Sena quipped on reflex when he heard Hiruma's menaical laughter from the tent.

"Private Kobayakawa!" Ryokan Kurita gasped, a little startled to see the Private standing at attention outside Hiruma's quarters.

"Corporal Kurita, sir!" Sena saluted sharply, not at all afraid of Kurita.

"What are you doing out here, Private?" Gen asked as he came around the large mass that was Kurita's bulk.

"Sergeant's order's, sirs!" Sena answered crisply. "He is currently busy and does not wish to be disturbed, sirs."

"Hmm." Gen frowned. "He's supposed to be going over _that_ with us tonight, he said so earlier…."

"Is there a reason for this change of plan, Private?" Kurita asked.

"I don't know sir." Sena shook his head. "I'm only following orders."

Gen walked up to the tent flap and smacked it a few times, making the fabric snap loudly. Inside, Hiruma stopped cackling.

"Corporal Takekura reporting, sir!" Gen cried loudly.

"Sh-i-it!" Hiruma hissed as he quickly put the letter and the envelope away. He pulled out the map he was supposed to be working with and then poked his head out the flap.

"Your fucking ass is dismissed." Hiruma told Sena flatly.

"Sir!" Sena gave a fearful salute and dashed away.

"You two, get your asses in here." Hiruma jerked a thumb at the other two and they proceeded to have their meeting.

_=_=_=_=_

What'd you think?


	3. Third Correspondence

Author's Note: This chapter isn't gory, but conceptually it is M-rated. You have been warned. Also, on a random note, I am going to Kumori Con this year. Please contact me via review or IM if you want to meet up.

NOTICE: All flashbacks are now in _**bold italics**_ so that you can easily read them!

Letters Home

By: Bar-Ohki

Third Correspondence

War is a beast, some fucking poet had said, and it hungers, consuming everything it touches.

At least that is what Hiruma thought when his company reached the rendezvous point. They had been marching through the rain and when it finally let up they were in an abandoned city. All the signs were written with foreign letters, saying foreign things. No animals nor people set foot in this cursed, sad place. Corpses already littered the battle-warn streets. The place smelled of death and decay.

Part of the way through the town, on their way to find the hotel that was the point, Private Yukimitsu took off his hat in respect for the dead. If the Sergeant had been a greener, more naïve asshole, he would have demanded that Yukimitsu put his fucking hat back on. Instead of being that green asshole, Hiruma took off his own hat and halted the company. He bowed his head and everyone silently understood the order to take theirs hats and partake in a moment of silence for the dead.

That's when the shooting started.

The enemy had _known_ they were having a rendezvous here and the had _known_ this company was still green and had actual hearts that would bleed at the sight of corpses.

"Cover!" Hiruma barked as the company scrambled to find some shelter from the bullets. Thankfully the enemy had horrible aim and horrible guns, so no one had gotten injured yet. Seeing a hole in the rubble beside a corpse, Hiruma made a dive for it. Once inside the little hole, Hiruma somehow managed to turn himself around and start returning fire.

Windows, the enemy was shooting from windows. With a growl, Hiruma used his somewhat beat to hell rifle and shot a few of the enemy snipers. One of them fell out the window, fatally wounded by Hiruma's handy work.

The man was wearing a Sergeant uniform, just like his….

Swallowing hard, Hiruma shut his eyes and took another breath and continued to shoot at the windows the bullets were coming from. Whatever the reason he was shooting at men from his own military, Hiruma did not know, there was one thing he did know.

He wanted to live.

So he returned fire, him along with his other men who had scattered to God-only-knows where. They fired and killed and killed. Each time another corpse joined the body count, a little part of these soldiers died.

Eventually the firing stopped and a cautious Hiruma crept out of his hole. He examined the surroundings and deemed it temporarily safe.

"Roll call!" Hiruma snapped and waited for the voices of his comrades to call back to him in their number. Everyone was alive and well enough to answer, though no one stirred from the hiding places.

"Status?" Hiruma barked his question out again as he began to examine one of the so-called enemies he'd shot down. The person was of the same nationality as himself….

There weren't enemy soldiers, these were his people in his people's army….

For whatever reason Company 021 had just gunned down another company, 921 it seemed if the uniform was anything to go by.

The same company they were supposed to rendezvous with.

"Injured!" Monta, one of the new privates, cried. He was one of several.

"It is safe, come out if you can. Munataka, get your ass out here and start working!" Hiruma snapped a few more orders to follow that. He had the Corporals checking what they could find of the newest addition to the corpses.

Little Sena was pulling Private Juumonji out from his hiding place. Hiruma observed this and went over to help, knowing that green soldiers sometimes freaked out and froze up after battles. Juumonji had vomited on himself and judging from the lack of gunpowder smell, hadn't done much firing of his gun.

"…You fucking killed someone didn't you?" Hiruma observed, having been in the same position himself when he made his first kill. Juumonji only nodded, shaking.

"It happens in this fucking hell hole," Hiruma answered as he found his discarded hat, brushed it off, and put it on, "and its going to happen again and again."

"…But that was one our allies!" Juumonji managed to protest. The rest of the Privates gasped and stared at Hiruma, horrified.

"My definition of an enemy is simple," Hiruma answered, "anyone who is trying to kill me is an enemy. And any fucking solider who doesn't agree with this is naïve and foolish."

Somehow they managed to get themselves and the wounded to the rendezvous point. Hiruma clicked on the radio and communicated to command that they had been attacked by Company 921 and that they had killed every damn one of those fuckers. He reported his wounded and that he wanted an explanation as to why his men were attacked in the first place. The relayer didn't have any answers for Hiruma, not that that was surprising.

Afterwards Hiruma let Yukimitsu pack up the rest of the radio while he sat down to an evening of rations and letter writing. He looked around at his men, all were broken spiritually, some were damaged physically. Pulling out the Mamori's latest letter, Hiruma re-read it and almost cried. She said such wonderful things about them….

"My fucking woman wrote me a fucking letter," Hiruma confessed to the room, "she wrote about us."

"What'd she say?" Juumonji asked. And Hiruma read it out loud, reading the passage about 'brave and valiant soldiers'. Dark chuckles filled the room, everyone trying so hard to find something happy after today.

"I'm going to fucking tell her that we're too fucking hard to kill for our own good." Hiruma babbled as he took out a pen and paper. "Anyone else want to add anything?"

"We're all idiots." Monta remarked. It was true, they weren't the smartest set, but this had another meaning. Today they'd been idiots, sentimental idiots and nearly gotten killed for that.

And with that Hiruma wrote his letter.

_Fucking Woman-_

_You are such a fucking idiot, that's my fucking company they are talking about and everyone in here's a fucking moronic shit-head. Except myself, fucking badly, fucking old man, and fucking shinny, but even then they have their god damn moronic moments too. _

_Company 021 is full of the stupidest people you will ever see. God dammit. The only useful thing about these idiots is that they are very, very fucking hard to kill._

_If you must know, we're the only fucking company in this entire fucking military that hasn't lost any men yet. We are fucking alive. _

_-Sgt. Y. Hiruma_

Hiruma had Sena discretely send it off with the next currier. Hiruma hadn't actually written his letter until much later when everyone else had been asleep, making it seem like he'd been bluffing to boost moral. Though Sena knew better, he also knew that somethings were better left unsaid.

They stayed at the rendezvous point for a week before a new currier arrived to deliver their mail and new orders.

_Youichi-_

_I'm so glad to hear that you're alive! Everyone back home was worried about you! Every time I listen to the news, I hear your company's number, 021, all the time. You guys are becoming such heroes!_

_It means a lot to me that you wrote me a letter (could you please use less 'fucking' next time?) and I would like to hear your physical condition next time. I worry for your health, I hear those trenches are best at growing diseases. _

_If there is anything you want from back here, I'm willing to send you small packages in my replies. Since I know you hate military coffee, I sent you a small pack of 'Moon's Roast', that's your favorite right?_

_Lots of love,_

_Mamori A._

With wide eyes, Hiruma opened up the rest of the package and found the coffee grounds. He re-read the letter and started crying. Mamori was always one to care. She brushed aside his harmful words and left him a bit of that godly coffee. With tears, he heated up a kettle and looked through the envelope, yup, there was a filter.

Kurita, the large Corporal, stuck his head in the Sergeant's tent when he heard the sniffles of someone crying. He watched Hiruma pour himself a cup of coffee, treating it like tea. He watched Hiruma re-read the letter with a small smile on his face. And then Kurita pulled his head out of the tent and stood around to keep people from loitering in the area.

Hiruma, despite all the claims to the contrary, was human and had moments of weakness. It was Kurita's job as his second to keep others from seeing that weakness, especially the enemy.

_=_=_=_=_

Thank god for coffee. Tell me what you think!


	4. Fourth Correspondence

Author's Note: Again I am reminding everyone that going to Kumori Con this year and will continue to do so until the Con is over. Please contact me via review or IM if you want to meet up there! Also, we get to see some more of the familiar Eyeshield faces in this chapter!

Letters Home

By: Bar-Ohki

Fourth Correspondence

It took Hiruma two weeks before he finally had an opportunity to reply to Mamori's letter. They had marched north for about a week, then cut east for another week only to find themselves ducking into trenches to walk their asses down along one of those hell holes to meet with the main command. Now they finally arrived at the main station, and to the answers the entire team had needed.

"Sergeant Youichi Hiruma, reporting, sir!" Hiruma saluted the Second Lieutenant. He didn't know the man's name, but Hiruma did know the man was a ranking officer, so messing around wasn't going to be tolerated.

"Who's your commanding officer?" The Second Lieutenant asked in a crisp voice.

"Master Sergeant Doburoku Sakaki, sir." Hiruma stayed at attention.

"Why isn't _he_ reporting, Sergeant?" The Second Lieutenant was unamused.

"…He is suffering from a leg injury from the last battle and is unable to stand at this time, sir." Hiruma answered truthfully. "He's currently in the medical tent having it tended, sir."

"And he sent you in his stead." The Second Lieutenant looked down at Hiruma with a frown.

"Yes sir." Hiruma met the man's gaze firmly.

The Second Lieutenant pinched the bridge of his insanely pointy nose and sighed. "Stay here." He ordered and walked back into the command tent. There was a lot of loud, animated conversation and the Second Lieutenant returned.

"You're dismissed." The Second Lieutenant told Hiruma flatly.

"Sir?" Hiruma's eyebrows knit in confusion.

"Did you not understand your order, Sergeant?" The Second Lieutenant looked down on Hiruma in a fashion that wanted to encourage Hiruma to challenge the order for the sake of reprimanding him.

"…I will stay on standby until I am needed again." Hiruma saluted sharply. "Sir!" He turned on heel and left, leaving a clearly displeased Second Lieutenant behind.

_'A fucking military bully, huh?'_ Hiruma thought to himself, knowing better than to turn around and glare at the Second Lieutenant C. D. Lewis if his name tag was anything to go by.

Once Hiruma returned to his men the only thing he could do was shake his head to their expectant looks.

"Major Don won't see me at this time." Hiruma remarked simply and sat down amongst his comrades, not disguising how pissed he looked. No one said anything.

"They told me the Sergeant Major will be okay." Munakata announced having returned from the main medical tent. "…Do we have orders?"

"Fucking no." Hiruma answered, shutting his eyes and relaxing.

"I'm going to go to the mess hall, anyone want anything?" Kurita asked.

"Get me a cup of that black piss and some cigarettes, fucking fatty." Hiruma told Kurita.

"…Okay." Kurita nodded. The rest of the men decided to follow, not wanting to be around a moody Hiruma and wanting to eat in real chairs. Hiruma pulled out his previous letters and a blank sheet of paper to draft his reply on. Before he could start, he thought about all the shit that had happened the last two weeks.

Due to the lack of pain killers, Doburoku had taken to alcohol to numb the pain, both the spiritual and the physical in his case. Hiruma hadn't liked giving the order to raid all of the alcohol stores they could get their hands on, but he did. Doburoku was well on his way to becoming an alcoholic and Hiruma didn't have the heart to stop him.

And no one on the team had the heart to question the orders either. They all knew, at least Hiruma hoped they did, that Doburoku would be consumed by this war. All Hiruma was trying to do was ease the pain of the man's passing.

Re-reading Mamori's letter made him somewhat angry. He'd always been treated as an outsider by that town, always treated as this burden thrust upon them by God or something. Even his own father saw him as a nuisance. With growl, Hiruma started penning his angry letter.

_Fucking Woman-_

_There is not one fucking person back in that fucking town that actually gives a shit whether I live or die. Not even that mother fucking bastard that sired me. Quit trying to feed me sympathetic shit. It. Pisses. Me. Off._

_I don't have time for your fucking womanly nonsense anyways, I have three new recruits to break in because my fucking superior's too drunk to do it him-fucking-self._

_Fucking war. Fucking, fucking war._

_-Sgt. Y. Hiruma_

Pausing, Hiruma thought back on the three newest recruits. The fucking Huh-Brothers he had called them jokingly because they all went 'Huh?' in sequence. Everyone else in Hiruma's command had combat experience but them. They'd all three been very upset by the last battle and it was up to Hiruma to put them back together mentally enough to continue fighting.

"Tch." Hiruma hissed, annoyed. Sena was the first one to come back from the mess hall and this time he brought a tray of food with him.

"Mamo-sis would have wanted you to eat." Sena pointed out. Hiruma eyed the food and sealed up and stamped his letter.

"Strawberries?" Hiruma stared, amazed to see fresh fruit.

"From a local farm I was told." Sena explained. "The farmer had to be evacuated, so he traded all of his produce in exchange for safety. They wouldn't issue them to privates, but they were willing to give me some for a Sergeant that just had to deal with the Second Lieutenant." The last sentence was said with a chuckle.

"Looks like he's an infamous prick then…." Hiruma muttered with a dry laugh. He picked up a strawberry and munched on it, savoring the fresh, tartness of the fruit. He handed one to Sena and the Private happily munched it down.

"It fell on the ground." Hiruma remarked.

"Of course sir." Sena smiled back. He then paused looking a little nervous about something.

"You're dismissed to go write your fucking girl." Hiruma waved Sena away. Sena smiled.

"Thank you sir." And with that he left.

The few days were spent doing errands for people of higher rank. Hiruma was annoyed about that, but couldn't do a damn thing about it. It was war, there was no rest for the non-injured. Several times Hiruma's men would stay around him and pretend to be busy doing things for Hiruma so that they could actually have a small breather.

One evening the Second Lieutenant Clifford D. Lewis (a man known for bullying those of lower rank) was on the prowl. He found himself walking right into the tent of one Sergeant Youichi Hiruma, who had been sleeping.

"Sergeant!" Clifford barked, taking great pleasure in having woken the other man up.

"Sir!" Hiruma was out of his bed and saluting. He'd always been a light sleeper, he'd been awake and ready the moment Clifford had pulled the tent flap back. Clifford frowned, not liking how quick Hiruma had been to get to his feet.

"You are to report to the main tent immediately." Clifford told Hiruma with a smug grin.

"Yes sir!" Hiruma, having been clever, had gone to bed in a clean uniform. He put on his boots and unwrinkled the outside of his uniform the best he could and followed Clifford with a smile.

Clifford had been hoping to wake up Hiruma and drag him to the tent in his boxers, but the idiotic Sergeant had been ready and expecting that.

_'He really did mean he was on 'stand-by' the bastard.'_ Clifford didn't like Hiruma. Something about the other man rubbed him the wrong way. They arrived at the main tent and Hiruma came in and saluted sharply.

"Sergeant Youichi Hiruma, correct?" Don, an enormous man, asked from behind his desk of maps, battle plans, and random paperwork. He was currently looking through some of the paperwork.

"Sir, yes sir!" Hiruma dropped his salute and stood at attention.

"I heard you wanted an explanation about the incident with Company 921." Don didn't sound pleased by this. He tiredly glanced over the paperwork and looked Hiruma up and down.

"Master Sergeant Sakaki made the official inquiry, sir." Hiruma explained. "As he is on medical orders at this time, I have come in his stead, sir."

"Ah, yes he did." Don found the bit of paperwork. "I suppose your team is owed a bit of an explanation…."

Hiruma said nothing and waited.

"Company 921 had been… misexecuting orders for a while now. I decided to put them on a cooperative mission with Company 021 because of your feats and loyalty. From what I can see they disserted, slaughtered the town they were to be hiding in and then tried to kill your men." Don told Hiruma simply. "Is there anything else your Master Sergeant wondered?"

"The Master Sergeant wanted to know what our next set of orders were, sir." Hiruma admitted.

"Be useful until your wounded are healed up." Don told Hiruma. "Dismissed."

"Sir!" Hiruma saluted and left the tent.

Hiruma marched back to his tent, his boots heavy. They'd been sent in to eliminate Company 921 under the assumption there had been a cooperative mission about to happen. Or they had been sent to be eliminated by Company 921, it didn't matter. That's what Don hadn't said but what he had meant, and he had known Hiruma would have picked up on that.

Sena had come in while Hiruma was away and left behind a clean, white envelope on Hiruma's cot. Hiruma smiled and opened it up, reading the letter.

_Youichi-_

_If you didn't always seek out the worst in people you would realize how many people in this town _do_ care about you. Because I care about you and I'm worrying about you and your welfare. _

_A few soldiers came through town today, they were heading home. And they were a mess! One man had to be carried because he didn't have legs anymore! I keep on getting nightmares about you and Sena coming home like that…. It's horrible._

_Please, please tell me how you are doing physically! And be honest, it's not much of me to ask._

_And your superior is drinking!? Why didn't you tell me that when you were home!?_

_Lots of love,_

_Mamori A._

Opening the rest of the envelope, Hiruma was mortified that the bit of coffee he had been expecting was gone.

"What the hell!?" Hiruma swore and wrote a response right away.

_=_=_=_=_

Hiruma does not have his coffee! No!


	5. Fifth Correspondence

Author's Note: I am not dead. I am taking summer classes and just had mid terms. Here's your update. I am still going to Kumori Con, if you are interested in meeting me, send a PM or review my way.

Letters Home

By: Bar-Ohki

Fifth Correspondence

_Where the hell's my coffee?_

Short, simple, and full of emotion. Hiruma sealed the letter, addressed it, and put himself back into his cot, staring at Mamori's letter, upset. He felt betrayed, for lack of a better description for the emotion. He thought Mamori had known him better and had known to take care of him better than this….

He shut his eyes to hold in the painful tears. Hiruma was not the kind of man who would cry over a girl. No he was not.

After putting the letter in the post himself the next morning, Hiruma went and relayed the news to his men and superior.

"Another squabble in command, huh?" Doburoku sighed, knowing what had really happened. Thankfully the rest of the men were a great deal more ignorant of what the words really meant.

Hiruma wasn't given the chance to reply because there was an explosion somewhere else, not too far away. Several explosions followed the first and yelling of orders and sirens sounded.

"Fuck!" Hiruma grabbed his gun and stormed outside, into the chaos, and started helping regain order and return fire. Being a Sergeant no longer mattered, what mattered was that someone was in control and giving out orders and all you needed to do this was an authorative voice that was barking out something decently logical. Having both of those things in plenty, Hiruma managed to re-organize the soldiers in his immediate vicinity (despite the rank differences) and start rallying people to his side.

Sena appeared at some point, as if from nowhere, and told Hiruma that most of his command had managed to gather in an area about 50ish yards to their left. Unfortunately there was a lot of enemy shells and a nasty trench between the two parties, how Sena had managed to cross it was beyond Hiruma.

"Send them fucking left and make them meet up with fucking Don." Hiruma told Sena. "I'm staying here with the fucking invalids."

"Sir!" Sena ran away again, firing off his gun twice as he went. The kid was good at running it seemed, cutting through the battle, hitting foe as he went. Hiruma said nothing and ducked behind some crates. He looked over the top and saw the enemy tanks.

"Fucking tanks!" Hiruma hissed, clearly not pleased. "Anyone got a fucking grenade?"

"No sir!" One of the other men, a Sergeant Major, responded. Hiruma turned around and looked at the tank again. There was something off….

The tank had been hit with a shell, part of the mechanics was exposed!

"Cover me!" Hiruma snapped as he climbed up on the creates, normally a suicidal move, but he had a plan. He took his gun and aimed it.

**Bang!**

The bullet flew true, embedding itself in the mechanics of the tank. Unfortunately all that seemed to do was stop the turret from turning. The tank stopped and the hatch opened. Hiruma waited for the man to climb completely out before he shot him, four times, killing him.

Another explosion occurred near Hiruma's location. There was another tank. Shit.

Acting quickly, Hiruma leapt down and had the men take cover.

"What about the wounded?" One of the soldiers crouched down next to Hiruma asked.

Hiruma swallowed painfully. "They'll understand." Hiruma muttered lamely. There was little he could do to protect the wounded without getting them all killed.

Monta, one of the monkey-like green soldiers in Hiruma's command, had injured his arm in the pervious battle but was still able enough to run over. Hiruma was about to snap at the idiot when he saw that Monta had an armful of grenades.

"Ke ke ke!" Hiruma cackled, new plans spinning in his mind. They still had a chance yet!

"Here." Monta handed one to Hiruma. It was a long handled grenade, good for throwing. Hiruma took it and looked over at the new tank. The turret was turning there way and was about 4 seconds from firing on their location. Without thinking any more, Hiruma pulled the pin and threw the grenade expertly at the tank. It flew through the air like an axe did and by some miraculous chance, went right down the turret barrel.

**Boom!**

The enemy never knew what hit 'em. Their deaths were instant.

"Status!" Hiruma cried again after he sent Monta up a tree to get a better view of what was going on.

There were no new injured, but those who had been able enough to walk among the injured had come out. With a tired nod Hiruma faced them.

"We're holding our position and yielding to no one unless its Major Don, is that clear?" Hiruma ordered them.

"Sir!"

The battle finished that evening. The death count went up and the number of injured also did. It took them several weeks to reorganize the camp, the remaining troupes, and send off the mail.

Once the reorganization was done, Hiruma and his men were sent out on another march. This time they were meeting up with another encampment to request supplies and issue orders. After a week of long marching, they arrived there, only to find a new shipment of mail had come in.

Much to Hiruma's embarrassment, his mail was delivered to him right in front of his men.

"…You have a girlfriend?" Takekura asked, an amused look on his face.

"Shut it Corporal." Hiruma hissed back and tucked the letter safely into his jacket. No one mentioned the letter and it was left forgotten until that evening when, in the privacy of his own tent, Hiruma pulled it out and opened it up.

Despite the envelope being perfect and pristine, Mamori's letter was crinkled and her letters were rushed and blotchy. Her hand hadn't been steady when she wrote this.

_Youichi-_

_You call that a note!? You didn't even bother acknowledging me in the slightest! Give me one good reason why I should ever send you coffee again! I sit here all day worrying about you and Sena and working so hard to keep everyone in town's spirits up and what do you do!? You demand a coffee! I don't actually have the beans to spare most of the time. Everything's on rations, especially coffee!_

_Lots of love,_

_Mamori A._

She had been worried. Very worried.

Hiruma ran a tired hand through his hair and glanced at the calendar beside him. It'd been just shy of two months since he last heard from her. No wonder she'd been so worried. He shook his head and moved to put the letter away, when he realized that the paper wasn't going into the envelope smoothly at all. He looked inside the envelope and found something he hadn't been expecting at all.

Mamori's lucky bracelet.

It was a simple bit of twine with a four leaf clover the local smith had fastened between two bits of glass. There was another piece of paper, this one a scrap, in the bottom of the envelope. He took it out and read it.

_return it_

Nodding slowly, Hiruma took the bootlace off from around his neck and tied the bracelet to it, then put it back on.

_**Now that telling Mamori was over with, Youichi had returned home to face his father one last time. Yuuya was sitting there with a pair of old boots on the table. Youichi hadn't recognized the boots from anything.**_

_**"You want something, fucking bastard?" Youichi demanded.**_

_**"I was wearing these the day I met your mother," Yuuya explained, "I was also wearing them the day we conceived you."**_

_**Youichi chose not to say anything right away. "Your fucking boots won't fit me." It was true, Yuuya's feet were much larger than his son's.**_

_**"Would you take a lace from one then?" Yuuya asked. "And return it when you're done?"**_

_**For once, Youichi decided to humor his father about something. He unlaced the left boot and tied the lace around his neck. Yuuya stood up and set his hands on his son's shoulders.**_

_**"Come back safe, Youichi." Yuuya wished him sincerely.**_

_**"Tch." And with that, Youichi shrugged off the man's hands, spun on his heel, grabbed his bag, and left.**_

It was only fitting that Hiruma wore the well-wishes of the people back home on the same place: around his neck.

_=_=_=_=_

Wow, a flashback with Hiruma, let me know what you think!


	6. Sixth Correspondence

Author's Note: Well, I crawled back out of my hole and finally updated. Hope you like.

Letters Home

By: Bar-Ohki

Sixth Correspondence

"So who's the girl, Sena?" Juumonji demanded during breakfast that morning. The company was sitting together in the mess tent waiting for orders. Everyone was enjoying their gruel, well as much as one could enjoy gruel. To pass the time, Juumonji had taken to teasing the other members of the team (except Hiruma). Sena, the poor kid, was often the number victim of any teasing in any situation.

"N-none of your business!" Sena sputtered back and pulled his letters away in an attempt to be brave.

"Is she pretty?" Munakata asked, sounding innocently curious.

"Not telling!" Sena huffed, blushing madly.

"Here's a fucking picture." Hiruma pulled an abused photograph out of his pocket and handed it to the other people at the table. There were only four people in the picture of the Anezaki's café. Hiruma was sitting in his usual spot brooding about something or another, Sena and Suzuna were sitting at a table, each with a cup of coffee and a smile, and Mamori was behind the counter lecturing at Hiruma as to why he should smile more often. It was pretty obvious who 'Suzuna' was.

"Wait a minute!" Monta protested. "Is that the Sergeant!?" He was pointing at the back of Hiruma's head (as that was what was displayed in the photograph).

"Yes." Hiruma answered and sipped the black piss they called coffee.

"…Oh that's right you and Private Kobayakawa are from the same town, aren't you?" Yukimitsu recalled, having had a conversation with Sena about it.

"So, Sergeant," Doburoku began, "who is _this_ lady in the picture?"

Hiruma ignored the question. Doburoku frowned.

"That wasn't an optional question, Sergeant." Doburoku told Hiruma flatly.

"That's rank abuse." Hiruma pointed out blandly.

"And do you think anyone around here will actually listen to you if you try to report it?" Doburoku snorted. "I'm not abusing rank anyways, I'm just subjugating problems. Now answer the damn question, Sergeant."

Hiruma paused and looked up from his coffee to look at the other faces at the table. Everyone was anxious and Sena looked thoroughly harassed. Keeping them curious wasn't going to help their nerves, Doburoku knew this well enough.

"Mamori Anezaki, her parents own the fucking café." Hiruma answered simply.

"Does she actually try and teach you manners?" Takekura asked, trying to suppress laughter.

"I dunno why she tries to fucking do that." Hiruma muttered, shaking his head.

"Wait, wasn't she the girl that wrote you earlier?" Kuroki asked, having recalled the mailing dispatch earlier.

Hiruma glared at Doburoku's shit eating smile.

"Suzuna isn't sharing her letters with Anezaki, so she writes me to inquire about little Sena's welfare." Hiruma answered, sounding bored. It was actually the truth, but not the full truth.

"She doesn't!?" Sena gasped.

"Looks like you're girlfriend's a selfish little gossip." Hiruma observed blandly and made everyone go back to harassing Sena.

But judging from the looks Kurita and Takekura were giving him, Hiruma was far from off the hook on this matter. He finished his food quickly and remarked that he was leaving to go to his tent and catch a 'fucking nap'. Not that anyone would blame their Sergeant for seeking a bed, he looked like hell warmed over.

Though Hiruma did go into his tent and enjoy the 'comforts' of his own personal cot, he was not sleeping. Especially after that shit they claimed was coffee. Instead he stared at the tent ceiling and pulled out the bootlace and good luck charm. It was such both were simple things, without much value, but all the sentimental strength in the world.

Thinking about her last letter, Hiruma shut his eyes, imagining Mamori's worried, crying face. He shuddered unhappily at that notion. No, he didn't want to see her upset.

With a groan, Hiruma sat up and started to write his letter. The sort of naïveté of her words distressed him, so he decided to set her completely straight. Of course finding the right words and the right amount of reality wasn't easy for him. It took three drafts to produce a letter to his liking.

_Fucking Idiotic Woman-_

_Since you've asked so fucking nicely, I'm going to give you a fucking reality check._

_I'm spending ever god damn day in a fucking trench wondering if I'm going die that fucking day. I'm spending every god damn day killing other people so that I don't fucking die. And I spend every god damn day doing my drunken superior's job because this fucking war's broken him so bad that the only damn thing he can do anymore _is_ drink! _

_You're trying to keep the town's spirits up? I'm trying to salvage what's left of our fucking moral! There's nothing here but fucking death, fucking disease, and total hell._

_You, little miss fucking sheltered, need to send me my fucking coffee now._

_-Sergeant Y. Hiruma_

Hiruma frowned as he glanced to his left hand. It had been clutching her bracelet the entire time and even now it would not let go. Shutting his eyes and taking a deep breath Hiruma sealed up the envelope and sent some sort of menial private out to put it in the post. He laid back down on the cot and unknowingly cried.

Why unknowingly? Because the rest of him felt heavy and hurt with a new kind of pain he couldn't quite explain. Because on the back of his eye lids he saw himself in that little café getting lectures and coffee. Because his ears were hearing those lectures, that beautiful voice of hers.

Opening his eyes to look at the tent ceiling, Hiruma felt small and hopeless. Was there even a point to all this fighting? Was there even a point to living in his hell hole?

Fucking war.

It was pouring rain in the week that followed. They were trudging through the resulting muck. The ground here seemed to soak up water all too quickly, causing several inches, to entire feet of mud to hinder their march. On top of that the ground was littered with empty shells, corpses, and other war debris. Everyone was cold and wet, not having been completely dry since the start of the march. It would be a real miracle if they didn't get sick.

Eventually they reached their next checkpoint, a small outpost. They were greeted with fire, something none of the company had been allowed to indulge in the entire march. Even Hiruma shamelessly huddled around the warm light, beneath the large tent.

"I have a letter for Sergeant Hiruma." One of the men from the outpost announced as he came into the tent full of newcomers. Hiruma simply looked up and took the letter from him and began to read it by firelight. His men were too exhausted to harass him about it, in fact half of them were already asleep.

"Private Toganou, keep your comrades from falling into the fire pit." Hiruma reminded the bespeckled private. The man nodded and leaned both Kuroki and Juumonji away from the flame.

Hiruma turned his eyes back to the letter and returned to reading it.

_Youichi-_

_I'm sorry, I had no idea it was that bad. They only glorify it on the radio. _

_I had to sneak this behind Father's back. It was supposed to be his coffee this morning._

_Lots of love,_

_Mamori A._

With wide eyes Hiruma opened the envelope a little more to see the typical pouch of ground beans. He turned to the nearest local solider and demanded he put the kettle on and get him a fucking mug.

By now, of course, only Takekura and Kurita were really awake. They watched as Hiruma waited with childish impatience for that water to boil. And when it finally did he carefully set up his filter and grounds and began to make himself some coffee.

The two soldiers watched as their old friend and comrade sipped that coffee. They watched a small, truly happy smile cross over his features and a small blush adorn his cheeks. When you lived in hell-on-earth, it was the simplest things that reminded you there was still some hope left.

And Mamori had done just that, she had relit the hope in those emerald green eyes….

_=_=_=_=_

Yay for Mamori!


	7. Seventh Correspondence

Author's Note: A longer, but darker chapter. I hope you like.

Letters Home

By: Bar-Ohki

Seventh Correspondence

Hiruma opened up his tent with a small smile on his face. He was looking forward to thinking about how Mamori had cleverly stole him some of her father's coffee back home. He could imagine the livid look on the man's face when he found out Hiruma got the coffee instead. Most of his men were wondering what was with that pleased expression as they sat around the morning campfire and ate their rations.

After warming up the entire company was greeted with a task they were learning to just _love_: dig and defend trenches. The news was met with a lot of blank stares and quiet grumbling as Hiruma ordered the company down into the hell hole. This trench smelled mostly of wet earth and unwashed bodies, a thankful relief from the smell of rotting flesh and blood. The walls were lined with sandbags as opposed to corpses.

Another person, some Lieutenant, was issuing the orders. You, make bags. You, haul bags. You dig. You, set up the machine guns. The typical fare in these parts. Though there was grumbling and faces, the Lieutenant had simply understood and didn't comment. He didn't want to be here any more than they did, and it was easy to see that on his face.

Hiruma hadn't finished mounting the machine gun he had been working on when he saw the movement in the forest. Human movement. His emerald eyes widened and watched the people in the trees carefully. His sudden tenseness poured over the rest of the people, making an eerie silence. Frozen, Hiruma watched as the movement came closer, more clear in the rain and fog.

And when Hiruma realized it was the enemy, pulled the trigger, sending the machine jerking back on his thumb, causing him to cry out in both pain and warning. Letting go, Hiruma fell back into the trench, clutching his hand delicately while gunfire opened up all around him. He lay there in the mud, staring up at the crying sky. He watched a few bodies fall, blood mixing in with the rain and leaving a strong, iron taste in his mouth.

Takekura bent over his head and was speaking. Hiruma could hear the words. He was being ushered to get up, get moving. To not die, to stay with them so they could go home together.

Then he smelled it, coffee. Mamori always smelled of coffee.

And Hiruma got up, grabbed a gun with his left hand and started to bark orders and fire on the enemies. He stood tall and firm, a sturdy support in the middle of the chaos. Later, when the battle was over and the company was back at the outpost, they would learn that the Lieutenant had been the first one to fall in that battle. They would learn that Hiruma's leadership saved several lives. And they, much to Hiruma's annoyance, would learn that there was no coffee to be had.

Because of his injury, Munakata had demanded that Hiruma be allowed a hot bath and a clean something to wear. Him and all the other injured. Hiruma was thankful for the hot bath, but he was not thankful for the hand splint and the order to 'not use it'. Grumbling Hiruma made his way back into his tent and wanted to smack someone around.

"A minute of your time, Sergeant?" Takekura asked as pulled back the tent flap.

"What do you fucking want?" Hiruma hissed. Takekura only held up a few sheets of blank paper and a pen.

"To help you write your girl back home." Takekura answered and he wasn't taking 'no' as a response.

Takekura had written his letter in advance, and told Hiruma half way through the transcribing process. Hiruma had started swearing up a storm that hadn't gotten transcribed in response, but Takekura decided to include just enough to give Mamori a feel about what had happened.

_Miss Mamori Anezaki-_

_Hello ma'am, I am Corporal Gen Takekura, Sergeant Hiruma's second-in-command. I am transcribing this letter on his behalf as he is currently recovering from a hand injury. It isn't anything serious, he just strained his thumb while using a machine gun the other day and is under explicit orders from our medic, Munakata, to not be using it for a day. I thought I would apologize for anything he tells me to write in advance, as Private Kobayakawa tells me he generally wishes to write swear words in his letters. I would like to assure you that despite this habit of his, he is a wonderful guy and a good leader._

_-CPL. G. Takekura_

_Fucking Woman-_

_I have to admit I am fucking proud to hear that you've finally grown enough of a fucking spine to actually steal your own beloved fucking old man's coffee and give it to me! There is hope for you yet!_

_Whatever the fucking old man told you, ignore it. He's too fucking a sentimental old fool for his own good._

_-The fuck!? What the hell do you mean I should be fucking 'nicer' you fucktard!?-_

_Fuck you all!_

_-Sgt. Y. Hiruma_

"Stealing coffee?" Takekura asked as he read over what was written.

"What the fuck are you talking about, Corporal?" Hiruma snapped, irritated.

"Just reading a line you asked me to write." Takekura commented.

"I didn't ask you to writing write anything." Hiruma glared.

"You like this girl." Takekura observed.

"Put that fucking letter in the mail or I'll have your ass demoted." Hiruma growled. He didn't want to have any talks about what was happening with himself and Mamori. That was their business and their business alone.

With a nod, Takekura stood up and prepared to leave Hiruma's tent. On his way out he shot a glance at his commanding officer. The man was staring at the tent ceiling, thinking hard about something. His left hand was gripping something that was underneath his shirt like that thing was his only anchor to reality.

Perhaps it wasn't right for him to pry, Takekura thought to himself as he exited the tent.

"How is he?" Kurita asked, approaching Takekura worriedly. His air was coming out in white puffs in the chilly night air.

"No worse than the rest of us." Takekura answered. "No worse at all."

Days turned into weeks, each one more wet and damp than the last. The dirty trench got longer and longer, higher and higher. At one point Togano, a man who had been aspiring to be an author, made a poetic joke about how these trench walls were going to become their coffin walls.

"They already are." Another solider had responded humorlessly. "We'll all be buried in these trenches!"

"Shut the fuck up!" Hiruma snapped at the man. "This a fucking trench in fucking hell, I won't deny that, but men can be fucking angels and angels can be fucking reborn!"

Everyone stared at Hiruma while he was talking. Where had he gotten this stuff?

"As long as you don't lose your fucking soul and your fucking head, you'll get out of here." Hiruma told the guy pointedly. "So no more shit about coffins, got it?"

Sena didn't say anything, because he knew that was something Mamori had said in the past.

_**It was Sunday and every member of that small town came in from the fields and from their shops to pray. Even old Mr. Hiruma would show up, sit in the very back, and listen to their pastor, kind man by the name of Ichiro Tamaki, speak the words of God. Youichi Hiruma had shown up his first Sunday in town and was never seen in the church again. **_

_**It took about four months for him to be confronted on the issue.**_

_**"Why don't you come to church?" Mamori asked him innocently.**_

_**"There isn't a fucking God." Hiruma answered.**_

_**"Maybe not," Mamori conceded unexpectedly if the look on Hiruma's face was anything to go by, "but there are angels."**_

_**"What?" Hiruma stared at her.**_

_**"Don't you know? People can be angels for other people!" Mamori told him. "It's when they do something nice and life-altering without asking for anything in return!" **_

_**"Really." Hiruma hadn't met it like a question because he was starting to think he understood.**_

_**"Really!" Mamori assured him with a brilliant smile. **_

_**Hiruma hadn't said anything but he looked at Mamori carefully. She was an angel, to him anyways.**_

Sena only cocked a small smile. Because by keeping him alive and his hope mostly together, Hiruma was being his angel. Though, right now Hiruma would needed the support of his angel back home, so Sena walked up and held out a brilliantly white envelope.

"Your mail, Sergeant." Sena told him.

Hiruma wordlessly took the letter and sat down against a trench wall. In front of everyone he opened it up.

_Youichi-_

_You're hurt!? Are you okay!? Did it get infected!? Are you better now!? I am so worried!_

_Corporal Takekura seems like a very reliable man. I hope you thanked him properly for writing that letter up for you. And would you extend a thanks from myself as well?_

_Please, please tell me something I can do to help!_

_Lots of love,_

_Mamori A._

Hiruma only smiled gently. Someone out there gave a fuck that he lived to see the next day. That meant everything to Hiruma at this time. Looking inside the letter he pulled out the coffee and filter, then tucked them back away. He'd save that stuff for tonight.

Idly, Hiruma watched as Sena delivered the last of the mail. He watched some of the men cry, some of them smile, and some of them swear angrily.

"Angels, huh?" Takekura asked.

"Yeah." Hiruma answered. "Angels."

_=_=_=_=_

The angels thing is an ongoing belief in my family, its something I thought Hiruma could maybe be able to believe in as well.


	8. Eigth Correspondence

Author's Note: Lewis, for those who don't recall, is Clifford D. Lewis. He's an ass.

Letters Home

By: Bar-Ohki

Eighth Correspondence

In the fire light, Hiruma looked like a zombie. He was gaunt and pale with dark circles under his eyes. The high contrasting light did nothing to beautify him, even if it was supposedly 'romantic'. A shiny, abused metal tea pot was sitting in the fire with a small bit steam coming out of it.

It'd been a long day. They'd been asked to haul the dead out of the trenches to send them home. And between the stench, the disease, and the fact that these were once friends and comrades- Hiruma didn't want to think about how many could corpses he touched and replaced with sand bags.

The most horrible part was when Hiruma had the epiphany: these men were finally going home to rest.

And he was still stuck here, away from his Mamori-!

_**Tweet!**_

The kettle was boiling, so Hiruma grabbed his rifle. Using the barrel on the gun, Hiruma stuck it inside the handle and hauled the kettle out of the fire. Expertly, with the help of a rock, he poured the boiling water into the coffee grinds in his cup.

"What's that you got there, Sergeant?" Second Lieutenant Lewis asked, his tall frame looming over Hiruma.

"A present from home, sir." Hiruma answered and gave Lewis a particularly haunted look. "Is there a problem, sir?"

Lewis didn't say anything right away. He was going to ask what kind of tea it was when he got a whiff of the stuff. Coffee was something he'd been wanting a good cup of in ages and here some idiotic Sergeant was actually getting a good cup? That was unacceptable.

"Your family sent you coffee?" Lewis frowned down at the cup. Still seeping, but delicious smelling coffee, he was getting tempted.

"Yes sir." Hiruma was lying a little, but Mamori was closer to him than his family had ever been.

"What kind of coffee is it?" Lewis asked, sitting down. He had decided to make some small talk before he commandeered the precious coffee cup.

"Moon's Roast." Hiruma answered. "Local blend, best fucking stuff in the world, sir." Hiruma answered with a small, proud smile on his face. He was recalling being at home, in the little coffee shop, next to Mamori. She was always lecturing him but, somehow it seemed endearing after all of this time and distance between them.

"That's pretty high praise coming from you." Lewis observed.

"I don't do it enough justice, sir." Hiruma left it at that. Hopefully after this cup the smell would seep into his clothes and allow him to dream of lighter days back home. Days with Mamori in them.

Hiruma hadn't always bothered thinking about her and her wants and needs at first. But one morning he realized he couldn't quiet recall her face and it shook him at the core. He'd never been so frightened and nervous as the day he realized he couldn't remember Mamori's face. So he started to make a point to recall it often, to keep his memory sharp.

This was perfect, the way this conversation was going, in Lewis' eyes. Just a little push and that cup was his.

"If that's the case, I would like to try a bit and see for myself." Lewis made it clear that saying no was going to result in Hiruma getting his ass kicked.

Hiruma's eyes widened and started at the Second Lieutenant in complete mortification. Surely he'd misheard that!

"S-sir?" Hiruma asked, his surprise and distress clear as day. The poor Sergeant was far too worn out to even begin to try to disguise his emotions at this time.

"I would like to try a bit of your coffee and see if it really is as good as you say, Sergeant. Is there a problem with that?" Lewis asked, unamused.

Of course there was a problem with that! You were planning to take the coffee Hiruma _deserved_ and had been _looking forward_ to and had been _depending_ on all fucking day! But of course saying no wasn't an option when the man outranks you a great deal.

"…No sir." Hiruma answered, looking at the coffee forlornly.

Lewis picked up the cup when it was done and took a small sip. Damn! This stuff really was good, even when it had been seeped poorly. With a subtitle smirk, he downed the rest right there in front of Hiruma.

"Oops." Lewis was mock-surprised. "Really tasty stuff there, didn't realize I was having so much."

Hiruma said nothing, he was trying not to scream. In frustration, in sorrow, in grief, he could no longer tell.

"Send some to the command tent next time you get some." Lewis smirked. Take that you overly charismatic Sergeant.

"No." Hiruma answered standing up and looking Lewis in the eye.

"Are you defying me, Sergeant?" Lewis asked, growling.

"Punish me all you like, but I do not intend to share the coffee _my_ woman slaves over preparing _for me alone_ again, sir." Hiruma drew out the end of the sentence long and firmly. He almost spat 'sir', almost.

"...Let's see how you like a few lashings for disobedience." Lewis frowned.

About three hours later, Hiruma found himself being carried by Juumonji and Kuroki back to his tent. Second Lieutenant Lewis had been less than gentle with the lashings and the rest of the encampment had been particularly displeased. To them Hiruma was a hero, he worked out there with the rest of them seeking to save lives and defeat the enemy! He was worth more than any other solider there and never stepped out of line-!

So why was he beaten? Lewis did not say.

"Shit, what'd the fuck brought this on?" Kuroki demanded as Hiruma stumbled in his pain. His back was one big ache and walking straight was beyond him at this time.

"Fucking mother fucker-!" Hiruma swore, grunting in pain at the same time. Munakata was rather surprised to see his commanding officer coming in condition this bad.

"I'm going to report the one who did this," Munakata, "whatever you did should not have warranted a punishment this severe!"

"Paper." Hiruma demanded as he was laid down on his cot. "Now."

Knowing better than to argue with an injured Hiruma, Juumonji produced the paper and pen. With quivering letters Hiruma wrote Mamori.

_Fucking Woman-_

_ -Get me another cup of fucking coffee-._

_ Get me two cups of that fucking coffee._

_ -Sgt. Y. Hiruma_

Now that the letter was written, Hiruma took a long breath and laid back down on the cot. He recalled how upset she'd been in her last letter and felt a little guilty.

"Fucking shinny, write her a report about my hand injury. Down play everything." Hiruma ordered the medical expert. Mamori, she didn't need to know about this. Or that battle.

"…Yes sir."

_Miss Anezaki-_

_Hello ma'am, I am Specialist Atsushi Munakata under the command of Sergeant Hiruma. I was informed you had an inquiry about his hand injury from last month. I would like to tell you that he was testing out a new machine gun that had not been properly set up and got his right thump jerked pretty good from the recoil. Nothing was broken, nor was anything bleeding. His thumb was a little swollen and spazimed a little if he tried to use it. I had him restrict his use of that thumb for 24 hours with periodic icing. He was right as rain after that. The only issue was the day of injury and restriction happened to have corresponded to the evening he typically writes you. Corporal Takekura transcribed the letter on the Sergeant's behalf. Other than that minor incident, the Sergeant has been in excellent health. I hope your worries are laid to rest now._

_-SPC A. Munakata_

"Lieutenant, under what grounds did you reprimand Sergeant Y. Hiruma?" Don asked, annoyed. There were rumors flying around that Second Lieutenant Clifford D. Lewis had beaten one of their best field commanders for no reason.

"Sir?" Lewis asked.

"Don't be smart with me, Clifford. Every damn solider I've talked to has heard of or _witnessed_ the Sergeant's reprimand. So what where the grounds for it?" Don demanded coldly.

"He completely defied a direct order then had the guts to back talk me." Lewis answered. He didn't have to lie to get himself out of this. The real reason was that he beat Hiruma out of spite. Lewis saw the man as a threat to his authority and career.

"And what was that order?" Don asked. The Major was more than aware that Lewis saw Hiruma as a threat. He was too busy to give a flying fuck who Lewis was bullying on a regular basis but there was a point where he could not turn a blind eye. And it seemed as though Lewis finally crossed that line, even if he was an old friend.

Lewis tensed, not having been expecting that question. Now it was time to alter the truth a little.

"I found him preparing some coffee, sir. He snitched it from the kitchens and I ordered him to stop and return it." Lewis answered. People got into fights over coffee around here, big fights. Keeping coffee regulated was a very important thing.

"Um, sir?" Sena asked hesitantly as he ducked his head into the tent. Don had summoned him earlier. "P-private S. Kobayakawa reporting for duty!" He saluted.

"Ah, yes, Private, please come in." Don gave the kid an encouraging smile. He'd been in poor Sena's shoes in the last war himself, so he didn't hold the kid's nervousness against him.

Sena quickly got into place beside Lewis and tried to make himself as small as possible.

"We were just talking about your commanding officer, Sergeant Youichi Hiruma, you're very familiar with him, yes?" Don asked.

"Yes sir." Sena nodded. "We're from the same town, sir."

"I've heard rumors of the Sergeant making coffee late in the day, are these true?" Don asked, all business now.

"Yes sir." Sena answered, making Lewis nod. "Mamo-sis sends him coffee with her letters, so he usually makes a cup for himself after a trying day. Sir!" The last part was added in a rush.

Lewis was now sweating a few bullets.

"So his coffee is sent from home?" Don asked.

"Yes sir." Sena nodded.

"You're dismissed Private." Don turned to Lewis. "The Lieutenant and I are going to have a long talk."

"Yes sir."

Hiruma cackled later when he found out that bit of news from his cot in the medical tent. After a few more days he was deemed well enough to get out marching again, so the company left on their next march.

Upon arrival at the next checkpoint, they were greeted with warm meals, food, and mail from home.

_Youichi-_

_ You could be a little nicer about asking for the coffee! _

_How was the first cup anyways? You never tell me if it was any good. Either way, it is good to hear that you're still alive and well._

_The radio's been talking about Team Naga a lot lately, it worries me. I hope you don't have to encounter them. _

_How's Sena doing? Suzuna never tells me what he writes her about. I share with her what you send me! _

_I am thankful that you didn't use 'fucking' so excessively this time. It makes me very happy. _

_I just want you to know that I still support you and wish you well. I know you hate God and Church, but I go and pray every day that you'll return home safely one day. I know you'll hate me for it, but I'm at my wits' end and -I just- _

_I'm going to do everything, even if you hate it, because it can't not help. So there!_

_ I also recall that you liked sugar-free gum, so I sent you two packs. I hope they last until I hear from you again._

_ Lots of love,_

_ Mamori A._

With awed eyes, Hiruma took out the two cups of coffee and the gum. When was the last time he had gum? He couldn't remember.

"Sergeant Hiruma?" A Lieutenant Colonel asked. He looked out of place amongst all of these non-commissioned officers.

"That'd be me sir." Hiruma stood up and saluted, the pure white letter in his hand.

"You've done nothing short of miracles during this campaign," the Lieutenant Colonel began, "so I'm ordering you to present us with another one."

"Sir?"

"Company 021, under your command, is to take out Team Naga." The Lieutenant Colonel ordered. "You are welcome to take extra men and supplies at your leisure from what is available here."

Hiruma was then handed a crisp, grey paper that officially authorized him to take what he wanted from what they had about this base.

"Yes sir." Hiruma saluted again, feeling tired.

"Good luck Sergeant." The Lieutenant Colonel wished him sincerely and walked away.

"Fuck."

_=_=_=_=_

Okay, due to lack of time in general, I couldn't update this baby. So I made this one extra long.


	9. Ninth Correspondence

Author's Note: Happy Solstice! Or Hanukah, or Christmas, or anything else I might have forgotten. I wish that all are safe and warm this winter season. And I'm sorry the update is short this time around. I have been busy working on other stories (namely gift fics I wrote for various friends of mine and Songs For Daddy). I do intend to see this fic again before next year.

Letters Home

By: Bar-Ohki

Ninth Correspondence

Hiruma stared at the map, hard. He'd been tracing Team Naga by making a record of all of the battles that had been had with them. With some added information from intercepted enemy communication, Hiruma could trace in their path and hazard a few guesses at their destination. They were eventually going to attack the base he was currently at, but he was pretty sure they'd detour and attack the outpost on the way.

"Sergeant?" An older Lieutenant asked as he came into the room.

"Sir?" Hiruma asked, a little confused.

"I thought you might want some advice." The Lieutenant smiled as he sat down.

Hiruma didn't say anything while he looked at the older man. He had a beard and a western hat on with shaggy hair that was against regulations.

"My advice would be to survey the enemy if you can before an encounter." The Lieutenant explained.

Hiruma glanced at the outpost. 85% chance it'd get attacked.

"Even at the cost of our men?" Hiruma asked quietly.

"Even at the cost of our men." The Lieutenant nodded harshly.

"I don't think I'm going to need your advice, Lieutenant Kid," Hiruma smiled slightly, "I think I've got my own ass covered sir."

"That's what I thought Sergeant, that's what I thought."

_Fucking Woman-_

_ Your gossip is fucking obnoxious. _

_ -Sgt. Y. Hiruma_

Hiruma didn't have the heart to really tell Mamori anything. And he didn't want to have the risk of information being stolen by an intercepted letter home. So he wrote something provoking and argumentative to hopefully get a longer letter back.

Unknowingly, Hiruma had held onto her bracelet the entire time. He needed her luck and her support right now more than ever. Especially with what he was going to try to do.

Silently, Hiruma handed the letter to Sena then turned to the rest of his men.

"Take what weapons you want from the stores. Carry the right amount of ammunition for you and be packed and in two hours." Hiruma told them. "We're going on a four day march. There will be no restocking at the outpost so pack extra food and water."

"Yes sir!" The company got to their feet and went about getting their needed things. Doburoku stuck around a bit.

"Team Naga?" The Master Sergeant asked.

"Yes sir." Hiruma answered.

"Fuck."

"Already did that." Hiruma frowned as he walked off to suit himself up.

In an hour they were on the road marching towards that outpost. Everyone wordlessly knew that they very well might be marching to their deaths, that they were going to go clash with Team Naga. But no one talked about this. Instead they just marched in silence, everyone thinking homewards.

Somehow they managed to get to the outpost in three days. Maybe it was because the silence had been unbearable amongst themselves. Maybe it was the fact they just wanted to get whatever was going to happen next over with.

"We're going to save these people." Hiruma told the team just before they got to the outpost, startling them with the sudden break of the silence. "We're going to save the base and the rest of the fucking military because tomorrow we're going to defeat Team Naga here and now."

They all looked at him.

"Our chances are less than point zero, zero, zero, one." Hiruma told them.

"They aren't zero sir!" The company responded.

"Exactly. That's all we need to win." Hiruma smirked. "Now today we're going to figure out _exactly_ were we will stand and _exactly_ how we will shot these bastards down!"

"Sir!"

After the investigation of the small outpost was done, Hiruma began to rearrange the equipment and the like. Quickly the outpost started to look abandoned. Hiruma carefully went about constructing some traps, subtitle ones. If one were to touch some of the 'abandoned' supplies they would blow up. Other traps would drop rifles loaded and with rocks on the unfortunate idiots.

"But if I put a rock in this, wouldn't it not fire?" Sena frowned as he loaded one of the trap rifles.

"That's the fucking point, shrimp." Hiruma explained. "They weigh a fucking lot and don't work."

"Oh." Sena blushed.

"Just worry about shooting them when they flee into the forest, got it shrimp?" Hiruma reminded the kid.

"O-okay." Sena nodded.

"Are you sure Team Naga is going to come here?" One of the residents of the outpost asked airily as he carefully placed some food around to attract some animals.

"Fuck yes." Hiruma answered.

"Are, are we going to be okay?"

"You're under the protection of Company 021, what do you think?" Hiruma asked him dryly.

"Th-this is Company 021, sir!?" The poor guy was startled.

"Yes it is, Private. Now do your share of the work." Hiruma reminded him before walking off to oversee another surprise.

"Sergeant!" Sena ran up, a beautiful white letter in his hand.

"Fucking woman sent me a letter huh?" Hiruma muttered thoughtfully and took the envelope away to go read it in private.

_Youichi-_

_I care, do you realize that? I care a lot! I'm trying to keep you in touch with people who are still leading fairly normal live so that you can come back and be at home. _

_I know you might not get along with everyone in this town, but I want you to have some place safe to come home to. I want you to come home well and safe. So please, please don't insult me and push me away. _

_The radio just said that your company would probably be sent to 'deal with Team Naga'. I'm worried, they seem to destroy everything we throw at them with ease. I hope you don't have to encounter them…._

_Just please, tell me how you are doing for once. Sena too._

_Lots of love,_

_ Mamori A._

She was worried about him and Hiruma found that comforting. He gently took out the coffee and the gum. The coffee was going to wait, but a stick of gum went into his mouth. He was going to need it for the battle.

"They're here!" Monta whispered as he ran up.

"Let's go welcome them then." Hiruma got up, picked up his gun and smirked.

_=_=_=_=_

Next chapter will have some action and death~


	10. Tenth Correspondence

Author's Note: Wow, this update is very, very late. It was mostly me being distracted by Songs for Daddy and school. Well there's death and action and it's long. I hope you like.

Letters Home

By: Bar-Ohki

Tenth Correspondence

Silence, cold and quite as the crispy air broke over the camp, making everyone nervous. Hiruma was couched down inside a crate that would have been normally used for the lavatory pit. Which meant it would either be full of shit or empty, something the enemy probably wouldn't investigate immediately, if at all. Most of Hiruma's plan was revolving around the fact that these men were stupid enough to fall for enough of the traps, or at least enough of them to substantially diminish their numbers before the ambush.

So far they were cautious, looking around as if anything would jump out and attack them.

"It looks like they really did just abandon the outpost and flee." One of the Nagas remarked. He was a big man with a particularly wicked looking scar down his face.

"So Company 021 gave up the fight?" Another Naga snorted. He was short with spiky hair.

"No, those trashes didn't abandon the fight," a third Naga, this one with dreadlocks, observed, "this is a trap."

"Agon?" The first Naga blinked.

The dreadlocked man picked up a rock and knocked one of the apples over. Then the little pile of fruit blew up. The blast would have been enough to kill a man or two.

Hiruma bit his lip. Shit he'd been read-!

"Which means the trashes are hiding, waiting for us to kill ourselves off before attacking." The dreadlocks man concluded. "They're probably hiding in places we wouldn't normally investigate, like this lavatory create here…."

Hiruma wasn't sure if the man was ballsy or stupid, because he put his hand on the top of the create Hiruma was hiding in and began to open it.

Well, fucking dreads probably wasn't going to be able to do anything about a machine gun barrage to the face at this range, Hiruma decided and pulled the trigger.

The entire Team Naga gasped in horror as a massive amount of destructive bullets came flying out of the innocent crate, slamming into their commander's body. Agon Kongo, the great genius behind Team Naga had been 99% sure that no one in their right mind would actually hide in a used lavatory crate, mostly because the stench would have been overwhelming. But Agon Kongo hadn't ever lived in a trench. He didn't know the horrors and smells of the trench were nothing in comparison to some rotting shit. He didn't know how desperate Youichi Hiruma had been to win. And because of that Agon Kongo was killed by Youichi Hiruma.

Blood and flesh splattered into the crate, smacking against Hiruma's face and body. He let out a battle cry and his troops came out of the woodwork of the outpost, firing on Team Naga, catching the horrified team by complete surprise.

Unfortunately the shock did not last as long as Hiruma had hoped, they were already grabbing for their guns and someone was barking orders. The first priority was to kill Hiruma, since he was an immediate threat. The second priority was to trip all of the traps in the room. Knowing that having killed one of their own would make Hiruma a target, he ducked back down into the crate and prayed the thin cement wall Sena installed that afternoon would be enough protection from the bullets.

It did not take long for the spray of deadly lead to come his way. Hiruma shut his eyes, covered his ears, and prayed that what bullets did pierce that concrete wall would have slowed down enough to not be deadly. He could smell and feel the concrete dust falling on him. Maybe he was going to be buried alive in a crate full of shit. That'd be highly appropriate in the eyes of several people back home.

While Hiruma was hiding the crate, a small portion of his team, lead by Kurita, opened fire from various places, most of which were up high in the rafters or on the lofts. This allowed the troops to move around and not be a sitting ducks, well theoretically. Their movements were limited and the Nagas were too quick to figure out where the few choices of escape or alternative cover were and closed them off with bullets of their own.

Yukimitsu signaled Monta and Kurita, then Taki when he came into Yukimitsu's line of sight. He'd kept in hiding for the sole purpose of carefully examining their opponents, in Hiruma's place since he was hiding in a crate that had gone under some pretty hefty gunfire. There was a high chance Hiruma was dead, something only Yukimitsu had understood. Hiruma had ordered him to hold his silence earlier.

**_"You can't go into that crate! You'll be a frozen target!" Yukimitsu protested._**

**_ "Fucking badly, what are the advantages of being the man on the level?" Hiruma asked._**

**_ "You get a better assessment of your opponents in a shorter period of time because of your view point. In an ambush your bullets would have the highest chances of hitting, the chances of getting a vital organ are very high, sir." Yukimitsu almost recited._**

**_ "And what kind of man should you place on the level knowing he'll have those advantages?" Hiruma asked._**

**_ "A quick tactical thinker who is a good shot." Yukimitsu answered. "And is disposable, sir."_**

**_ Hiruma had been grinning until the last statement. "You forgot something, Private."_**

**_ "Sir?"_**

**_ "If you choose to place a non-disposable solider in a disposable place, you can do so with tactical confidence if that particular solider is clever and good at escaping. Are we clear Private?" Hiruma looked Yukimitsu in the eye as he said this._**

**_ "Yes sir." Yukimitsu nodded but couldn't help but to keep his frown. "I'm just worried being clever won't be enough this time."_**

**_ "None of the other fucking idiots here can do it, not even you." Hiruma responded grimly. "I'll take out their control tower, everything else is on you, is that clear, Private?"_**

**_ "Yes sir."_**

Grimly, Yukimitsu passed on the information he had expected to gain. The Nagas had much more ammunition and firepower than they did. Their best bet was to push them into the unsprung traps or to drop the flower, but that was their trump card and would definitely assure Hiruma's death if he wasn't already.

Monta signaled back that he was awaiting orders, as did Taki. Kurita frowned; he wasn't a strategist, he was just strong and hardy. That's how he earned his rank. But Kurita did know one thing, a subordinate trusted their commander blindly so a commander had to make sure that he didn't do anything dumb. Right now he just nodded to Yukimitsu and hoped the Private had a better idea of what to do than him.

Yukimitsu asked Monta if he thought he could jump across the rafters and draw their fire until Kurita could drop a few flash grenades on the floor. Monta nodded and readied himself for the upcoming pain since he was most certainly going to get hit at some point during this venture. Yukimitsu readied his gun, he was going to shoot at their feet while they were blinded and make them run towards the traps.

At least that was the plan when Kurita gave the signal to set it in motion.

Hiruma, if he had been up there, would be the first to tell you no plan survives its first encounter with the enemy. And Hiruma was right.

Only have the guns followed Monta, the other half shot out the flash grenades before they could fire. Due to getting startled (the very reason Yukimitsu had not been allowed to be down in that crate), he accidentally shot off a few rounds, revealing his location and getting a large burst of deadly lead sent his way. Unfortunately for Yukimitsu, his only exit was a window outside, which was unfortunate because it meant there might be enemies out there too. He sat there, torn between a rock and a hard place when Kurita opened fire at some of the traps in an attempt to shake the Nagas.

All that did was shake the building and make Monta cry out indignantly from his precarious, but out of firing range, post in the rafters. Swearing under his breath Yukimitsu decided to fire a round out the window. It was the signal for Takekura to come down from the roof and drop the flour.

Hiruma lay there still as a board, he didn't know if he was hurt, the adrenaline was running far too high. He heard a lot of gunfire and explosions. For the most part stuff had stopped being directed at the crate, so he was pretty sure the enemy thought him dead or at least not the most imposing threat in this time. And they were right to think that because if he sat up he would become a bigger target and it wasn't like people were actively avoiding the crate out of courtesy for the dead or anything.

With his pointed ears, Hiruma carefully listened, waiting for some signals for what was going on. Was there something he could do?

Glass shattered, it was up high and fairly far away. Yukimitsu was signaling the flour dropping. Team Naga had moved to respond when white dust came flying down on them, making them cough and blink in an attempt to see. Hiruma could hear the coughing and the 'flump' of something falling quickly and heavily down on the top of the crate. He smirked.

The white dust was actually flour from a mill located just up the road. Yukimitsu had suggested they try dropping it on Team Naga if the other traps failed. Hiruma had agreed that was a good idea because there was one thing about flour he knew that most didn't: it was highly flammable. Hiruma sat up carefully since the gunfire had stopped and curses replaced the air. He picked up his lighter, knowing he did have much time to do this and prayed the flour in the crate wouldn't get him killed.

"Rubber duck!" Hiruma cried as he threw the lighter into the flour-saturated air and ducked down into his crate. The command simply meant get back under cover, something they should already be doing if the flour had been dropped. Hiruma dove into the far back of the crate and prayed he didn't catch on fire like the rest of the room surely would.

The air exploded into cinders, the ground caught flame quickly and easily. The flour served as tinder to catch uniforms on fire, making most of the Nagas swear loudly. The members of the team that had been inside the outpost, fled only to run right into the confusion that was being caused by Sena's team's ambush of flash grenades and actual grenades coming from all directions.

Hiruma could hear the screams of agony from the Nagas. He could feel the heat and on a few occasions watched fire spurt into the crate. The flour that had been inside was now burnt away and the little that had been on his uniform was now gone too. It turned out the concrete dust served as an anti-fire retardant, what a stroke of luck that was. He could also smell the burning flesh despite being inside a crate that once held a lot of shit. How the hell was he going to get out of here?

By being clever. Right.

With a small shudder, Hiruma pushed his back to the front of the crate and faced the back for the sole purpose of kicking it down. It opened up to reveal an area where the flour had already burned away, another stroke of luck. Someone wanted him to actually have a chance at survival today. Hiruma crawled down on it, carefully maneuvering himself closer to a trapped latter he could disarm then used to climb up off the floor with.

"You bastard." Hiruma felt warm gunmetal against his side. He looked up in horror to see that there was a Naga solider standing there, on fire, glaring at him calmly. He looked a lot like the dreadlock guy Hiruma had killed earlier, Hiruma realized, and this man wanted some revenge.

"Yeah, I know." Hiruma answered with a dry, tired smile. "You gonna send me out of this hell hole? Thanks."

The Naga only blinked at that. Suicidal soldiers were common enough on the battlefield, but he hadn't expected the great Youichi Hiruma to be one. Or was this bastard bluffing to have his life spared, it was hard to tell.

"You killed my brother," the Naga remarked dryly, "now I'll kill you."

**_Bang!_**

He shot Hiruma's arm. The world slowed down and Hiruma watched in fascination as his arm blew up and bits of flesh and bone went flying. That must really hurt. Then the pain set in as reality sped up. Hiruma cried out, tears prickling at his eyes.

"You're going to die in this inferno with me." The Naga smiled, his sanity clearly gone. "This inferno you made."

That's all Hiruma remembered when the blackness overcame his vision and he passed out.

Black.

Blank.

Oh, a light. Hiruma found himself sluggishly moving towards it. At first the light appeared to be white, but then it turned out to be green and blue. He got closer and realized he was standing in his father's orchard, looking down a row of trees at Mamori. Her back was to him and her gaze skyward, into the cloudless blue sky. She was wearing a blue dress, a beautiful blue dress; it must have matched her eyes.

She was holding something, Hiruma observed, a basket maybe?

"Mamori!" Hiruma called to her, standing there in his sullen uniform, his arm dripping blood. She jerked, startled, and turned around to him.

In her arms was a basket and in the basket was a baby. Somehow, Hiruma knew that was his baby.

"Live." Mamori muttered softly. "For this one."

And then Hiruma felt hot and came back into the painful reality of his broken arm and flaming building. He got up and stumbled his way over to the trapped ladder. Quickly he pulled the cord to disarm the trap with his teeth. Somehow he found the strength to climb that ladder with one hand and his mouth. When he reached the top, Takekura grabbed his jacket and pulled him the rest of the way up.

The pain was so much, Hiruma blacked out again with a gasp.

When Hiruma came to and was lucid enough to understand the world around him, he observed that he was on a hospital cot, staring up at the canvas ceiling. Lieutenant Kid was beside him, looking down at Hiruma with thoughtful eyes.

"They managed to put your arm back together. Somehow the bone you lost got stuck on your uniform so you should be able to use it without trouble when it finishes healing." The Lieutenant told him softly.

Hiruma glanced at his left arm. It was covered in a cast that was clearly going to keep it and him out of commission for a while.

"So I'm going back on medical leave?" Hiruma smiled at the thought. All he remembered from the last few days was Mamori. She'd been talking to him about something, what he couldn't remember. Logically he had probably been hallucinating and had taken comfort in her presence.

"No, Don wants you around to help with strategy." The Lieutenant answered grimly. "Your tactics whipped out all of Team Naga without any loss to your own men and besides your arm, no injury either."

Hiruma shut his eyes and understood. What had happened at that outpost had been nothing short of a miracle. There was no way no one was going to recognize his talent or his ability after that. Nor was there any way they weren't going to capitalize on it.

"Ah." Hiruma muttered. "How long have I been out?"

"Eight days." The Lieutenant answered. "And I have to be going now."

Hiruma only nodded.

"Your orders are to rest until the medical team here deems you good enough to be moving about." Kid told him flatly.

"Yessir." Hiruma saluted from the bed, then relaxed with a sigh. He couldn't remember anything from when he blacked out for the first time after getting shot. Something about Mamori then the ladder then more blackness and pain. A lot of pain. Shutting his eyes, Hiruma wondered if by doing so he'd recall his dreams. Or at the very least return to them.

It was about three weeks before Hiruma was finally allowed some time to himself again. He moved around with an aching left arm and got shit done the moment he'd been released from that medical bed. But unfortunately his hours in the day were always spent at Don's side or in the medical tent or unconscious out of exhaustion. Munakata had remarked that Hiruma simply wasn't getting proper rest with his injury and demanded he at least have one free hour during the day for a mental break, if not a physical one.

With a grumble, Don had agreed. Initially Hiruma had been planning to spend that time sleeping, but Sena's presence in his tent said it would be spent otherwise.

"Mamori-sis is worried sick," Sena remarked as he held up a 'letter' he had gotten from Suzuna, "because I was able to write Suzuna. I did say you were busy but she stopped eating and isn't sleeping…." It wasn't really a letter he had gotten from her. It was a message he faked having received so that he wouldn't have to explain to his comrades why he'd been able to talk to someone from home.

Actually Sena didn't know how Suzuna had managed to get through to call and have him put on the phone. Being in this war had made Sena's desire to voice his curiosity about such things all but gone and in some occasions his curiosity was simply nonexistent. All he knew, all he cared about, was that he had to do something dramatic to get Hiruma to write Mamori right away or there were going to be problems back home.

"Fuck." Hiruma muttered. Just what he needed, another distraction.

"Please write her." Sena asked.

"Yeah, just get out of my fucking tent already." Hiruma grunted as he went and grabbed some paper. He pulled out his previous letter from her, re-read it and wrote a reply. Because of his mood and desire for sleep, he kept it short and rude. He also made a demand for the support of hers he'd come to be dependant on.

_Fucking Woman-_

_You are in no place to be making fucking demands. I write you your fucking letter, it makes you fucking teary eyed and happy, I'm so fucking sure. And if you plan to whine every time you send me a fucking reply, I won't read it._

_So fucking there!_

_Get me a third pack of that gum._

_ -Y. Hiruma_

Pausing at the letter, Hiruma realized he had signed his name. He hadn't signed it as a Sergeant. There was a small part of him that was tempted to add the rank, but he realized it didn't matter with Mamori anyways. He always had and would be just 'Youichi' to her.

Sena was relieved when Hiruma shoved the letter in his hand told him to go 'fucking deliver it'. He was equally relieved to hear snores coming out of the tent not long later. With a smile, the young Private went about delivering mail and messages as needed.

A long, somewhat boring and high strung month past by. Company 021 had been idle while Hiruma recovered and getting mail to these bases was getting progressively more difficult. Thankfully on the day Hiruma was finally deemed well enough to go out into the field again, the mail from home came. He requested another day so that his men could enjoy some time thinking about home.

Don had thought it a wise choice and allowed it immediately.

Now Hiruma was sitting in his tent, holding a cup of piss they called coffee in one hand to keep it warm. It was immensely chilly as of late and his request for gloves had gone unnoticed and neglected. So instead of drinking the piss, he used it as a hand-warmer. Seemed to be the only reasonable use for that shit.

Before the Sergeant was a pristine white letter from Mamori Anezaki. With a deep breath, Hiruma set his 'coffee' down and started to open up the letter. It was pretty thick this time, something he thought was kind of odd.

_Youichi-_

_ Would it kill you to tell me if you are unwounded or not?_

_And if you plan to be an ass about this, I'll just stop sending you your coffee and gum. _

_So there yourself!_

_I heard you managed to defeat Team Naga! We were all so happy, we cried. Suzuna still hasn't been giving me news about Sena's welfare, would you mind sending me some next time please? _

_I sent you some mittens this time. I hear that they are a shortage on the field and I just want you to not lose any fingers. You always had such amazing, nimble fingers, it'd be a real shame if you lost them. Let me know if the mittens don't fit._

_And so you know, I was defending your honor the other day. One our customers wished you dead and I smacked him around and kicked him out. Using that broom you got me last year, might I add. _

_I hope you are well._

_Lots of love,_

_ Mamori A._

Hiruma pulled out the red, carefully hand knit mittens. Mamori had tried to put a little design on the back but with her shitty art skills it was impossible to tell what it really was supposed to be. If anyone asked Hiruma planned to smile and cackled evilly at them instead of answering.

Putting them on, Hiruma was pleasantly surprised to see that not only did they both fit very well, but that they were made of wool. Probably spun from one of the Kobayakawa's sheep, Hiruma mused. He was smiling now, very happy to have something to keep his hands warm that was comfortable and still useful when wet.

He was glad to have her support. Even if it was something he was becoming too dependant on, the fact it was there was enough. More than enough.

Because it was the only real support he still had.

_=_=_=_=_

Next chapter should be up sooner.


	11. Eleventh Correspondence

Author's Note: Having inspiration helps with more timely updates. So here's a timely update!

Letters Home

By: Bar-Ohki

Eleventh Correspondence

Hiruma found this march almost unbearable. The reality was that his arm still hurt and was still healing, on top of that he was marching across rough terrain that was bitter cold and littered with enemies. They never got ambushed but they did get almost caught in the crossfire from other battles and on one occasion walked into an enemy camp.

But that had come out much better than they had hoped because that particular camp had been full of half-starved, sick soldiers who were in no condition to fight. Though the Company was relieved not to have to fight since the enemy just surrendered, Hiruma was not of the same humor as his men. He knew what the reality of the situation was, so he was forced to give his men a blunt choice: either destroy their radios and any hope they might get a hold of supplies, or kill them outright now.

Now that the somber realization fell upon them, the Company went quite. Either choice would be bitter.

"If you plan to kill us, could you please let me write one last letter to my wife?" One of the enemy soldiers asked.

Turning around, Hiruma studied the enemy carefully. He had a certain feel about him that just screamed he was from the countryside. The man had fire in his eyes despite how sunken his face looked. He was ready to face his fate, that Hiruma could see, and he was deadly serious about his last request. Looking back to his men, Hiruma saw that they were… hopeful that Hiruma would accept it. After a thought about what the moral consequences of what might happen, Hiruma shut his eyes and made his choice.

"Yes." Hiruma told the man. "I'll even see the fucking thing delivered myself."

The deciding factor had been the fact Hiruma had letters from home in his pocket. There was no way he was going to deny this man one last chance to say goodbye. Hiruma's only hope was, should he meet the same fate, his own enemy will be kind enough to send one last letter home. Still, Hiruma silently vowed he would never, ever allow himself to be in such a situation where he had to write Mamori a goodbye letter.

A communal sigh of relief came out of the men of Company 021. Doburoku called a rest and then they began to exchange stories with their enemy about their homes. Most of the men from both sides were from the city, but the enemy was clearly startled to hear that Youichi Hiruma of all people was a country bumpkin. To further add to the shock Hiruma openly remarked that his family had orchards back home. Both enemy and ally alike were startled by this with the only exceptions being Sena and Ishimaru (Taki hadn't been able to put the fact the Hiruma family orchards probably belonged to members of the Hiruma family together).

To everyone's mild surprise the Sergeant for the enemy also had orchards back home.

"What kind of orchards?" The enemy Sergeant couldn't help but to ask.

"Apples, pears, pecans, cherries, and… peaches." Hiruma actually had to think about that for a minute. The orchards back home just seemed so far, far away. He'd missed a few harvests because of the war. Faintly Hiruma wondered how his old man had been doing. Probably okay, he took care of the trees by himself before Hiruma came to live with him.

"Peaches, huh?" The enemy Sergeant smiled. "My family grows oranges, but it sounds like your family has their hands full."

"We let the fucking shrimp's family use the fucking orchards as grazing for their sheep." Hiruma barked a laugh. "So they help out in harvest."

Sena only nodded. "Yeah. We always get the best apples."

The rest of the conversation continued on in that matter while the other team had a chance to finish the last of their letters. They shook hands and thanked them for the good time.

"You are honorable. All I wanted from this thankless battle was to die at the hands of an honorable man." One of their enemies admitted.

"We'll make it quick and painless." Hiruma promised while he loaded his gun.

"Thank you."

The 17 guns of Company 021 rose up and took careful aim. Their targets shut their eyes and relaxed, waiting for their deaths with peace.

"On three." Hiruma ordered. "Three, two, one- fire!"

**Bang!**

17 bodies feel, dead. It was quick and painless.

"Arrange them more naturally about the camp. Take what you want from their supplies. Fucking badly, have a hack at their radio, fucking scar-face and fucking old man look for any code sheets." Hiruma commanded. He set to work helping arrange the bodies. In the end nothing of use was found, but amongst the supplies were a few pictures everyone decided were worth keeping.

Togano, being a man of words, said a little prayer for the fallen soldiers in that camp.

And with that Company 021 moved on, feeling somber.

Now being both mentally exhausted and physically drained, Hiruma called halt for the evening sooner than he had planned. Everyone could tell he was in a lot of discomfort. Munakata pulled the Sergeant aside and demanded to have a look at his arm. Hiruma gruffly allowed the request.

"You shouldn't be moving it as much as you have been." Munakata announced. "You'll be in a lot less pain tomorrow if you don't move it."

Hiruma didn't say anything. You don't argue with a medic.

"I'll make you a sling, the men won't notice it." Munakata assured him.

"The enemy will." Hiruma replied gruffly.

"…Just try not to move it." Munakata reminded him and returned to the camp.

Instead of returning right away Hiruma decided to look at his left arm. It was covered with a spider web of scars up his forearm on both the top and bottom. There were two deep craters of angry red flesh where the bullet had entered and exited. He'd been lucky, the doctors had said, that they had been able to put the bone back together. He'd been luckier still that his muscle hadn't been too damaged. He'd lost a lot of dexterity in is left hand after the wound, but not as much as they had expected. There was a good chance he'd be able to get most of the control he had back.

But never all of it.

His left arm and left hand would always be slightly lame for the rest of his life. But slightly lame was a lot better than cut off, which would have been his alternative if he hadn't been able to get the bone fixed. He looked at his long narrow fingers and traced them carefully with his right hand.

Biting back a cry of anguish, Hiruma had to remind himself that he had already accepted that he couldn't feel anymore with his left hand. Pressure he could kind of tell, but the sensation of touch was gone. He hadn't spoken about that with anyone because he had a feeling the answer was as hopeless as he thought it was. He couldn't help but to recall Mamori's words in her letter about his fingers.

"I kept all of my fucking fingers." Hiruma muttered as he pulled the mittens on over his hands. She would probably kiss his fingers if she knew about it.

Speaking of Mamori, Hiruma recalled he had to write her again. Carefully he pulled out the previous letters she had written him and began to reread them while he still had the light and time to himself to do so. Several of the letters had become dirty and lacked the pristine whiteness of her most recent one; that was just the effect of the environment on them.

"What's this?" Hiruma frowned as he saw something that wasn't completely pure white at the bottom of his most recent letter. It was pink and lip shaped-!

Mamori kissed the bottom of the letter. She probably kissed the bottom of every letter to send her love to him from afar.

"Fucking woman-!" Hiruma hissed, feeling the emotions he'd been suppressing for a while swell up within him. He'd been very, very homesick. He felt dirty and disgusting for killing reasonable people he had gotten to know earlier today. And most importantly he felt like a jackass for how he'd been ignoring her worried inquires about his welfare.

Hiruma wanted Mamori here, especially after those dreams that he knew only had her in them. They were important, she was important.

And so Hiruma wrote her his next letter. It wasn't long, but he knew she would like it well enough.

_Fucking Woman-_

_ Pvt. Kobayakawa is fine and in good health._

_ I am fine._

_ Happy?_

_ -Y. Hiruma_

The state of his left hand was not something Hiruma had the heart to tell her about. It wasn't something he was really ready to face himself. Standing up, he walked back to camp to get some food and rest.

Company 021 was still somber and quite, maybe that's why Hiruma had been able to fall asleep so quickly. Hiruma was almost always the last one asleep, so the fact he was the first was startling. Watches hadn't even been decided yet-! Looking at Hiruma's haunted, pained face, the Company wordlessly decided he would not be taking a watch. Doburoku, in a rare moment of lucidity, took over for once and saw the camp and watches organized.

Still, after stealing several glances at their commander, the company was under no illusion that Hiruma was in pain. They all knew that he was trying to uphold an illusion of strength for them, but the pained expression on his face in his sleep destroyed all of that in a hurry. After finishing with camp, the men huddled around each other and the small fire. Despite being asleep, Hiruma was kept close for warmth and what little comfort they could provide in this rocky area.

"So, Sena," Juumonji began since he had found the silence too heavy, "who exactly is 'Mamori'?" It'd been something everyone had wanted to know. Hiruma had been visited by all of his subordinates during his fever; everyone had heard him try to talk to this Mamori plenty. They all knew Hiruma was smitten in love with this woman, whoever she was.

"She's my older sister." Sena answered only earning him startled looks. "Well not by blood, but she took care of me since my own older sisters had children of their own to take care of by the time I was born…."

Sena was both the youngest in his family and the only boy. The Kobayakawa family consisted of seven women and one boy and two parents. Sena had several cousins (both first and second) since his parents had both come from big farming families of their own. His own parents had been almost too old to have children when he had been born. As a result Sena found himself being raised by his sisters and cousins more than by his own elderly parents. Mamori had become his friend and his sister in the sense that she was much closer in age to Sena than his own sisters had been.

"His family is very big." Taki added. Taki was the town idiot, for the better or worse.

"Lots of girls too." Ishimaru added, but that went unnoticed.

"What's she like?" Takekura asked while he spared a thoughtful glance at their leader.

"Very motherly and kind." Sena answered. "She's the only person in town that stands up to Hiruma when he bullies people-"

"She actually stands up to him?" Yukimitsu was awed by this. Hiruma was a hard man, standing up to him was nothing short of a pants-wetting experience for anyone who dared do it when Hiruma thought they were in the wrong.

"Miss Mamori is very brave." Taki added.

"She's also very stubborn and demands Hiruma change his ways a lot." Ishimaru added. Again no one noticed him.

"Sounds like a good match then." Kurita remarked with a smile. "He needs someone who won't let him walk all over them."

"They love each other a lot," Sena added, "even if they don't say it."

"She's the 'fucking woman' he writes." Munakata realized.

"Yes, yes she is." Sena nodded.

"He calls her that because she's a good fuck-!" Taki was cut off by getting a bullet whizzing by his face. Slowly, the men of 021 turned to look at their commander who was 'sleeping' while suspiciously cuddling his machine gun.

"Taki, you are an idiot." Juumonji muttered.

"Big idiot." Toganou agreed.

"Don't piss off Hiruma while he's sleeping." Kuroki finished.

"Well, the rest of us should get some rest, he'll only be more cranky if we can't keep up with his pace tomorrow." Doburoku reminded them.

"Yes sir."

Six weeks later, after they got to the next base, sent out the mail, ran an ambush mission and returned victorious; Hiruma got his reply from Mamori. He read it in the privacy of his tent.

_Youichi-_

_Thank you for telling me how the two of you are doing, I'm so relieved!_

_I'm curious, who all is under your command anyways?_

_Lots of love,_

_ -Mamori A._

Mamori's letters were bigger and with more space written between them. Obviously writing this letter hadn't been painful like the others. She included more gum and coffee too, something Hiruma was grateful for. Smiling he leaned back on his cot and reread her small letter, observing the happiness in her lines. Happiness he put there.

It was good to know, Hiruma mused as he drifted to sleep, that he was still capable of making people happy. Because as of late the only thing he could bring was misery and death….

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Yes, I had the gull to maim Hiruma. And then mess him up with shooting a bunch of nice people.


End file.
